Two of cinema’s most imaginative voices came together at the Busan International Film Festival for an intimate conversation about their creative processes, revealing surprising connections between their work despite being separated by continents and cultures.
Guillermo del Toro and Yeon Sang-ho, both masters of blending the fantastical with deeply human stories, participated in a session at Netflix‘s Creative Asia conference. The conversation offered insights into how both directors approach their craft.
Both filmmakers traced their creative origins to childhood encounters with monsters and Japanese animation. Speaking about his formative years, del Toro said: “I’m not a good outdoorsy guy. I’m an indoor observer, reader, consumer of audiovisual media, storyteller. You know, if there was no movies, they would throw me out of a cliff to die.”
The Mexican filmmaker revealed how Japanese tokusatsu shaped his worldview: “So we watched all the series, not only Osamu Tezuka, but we watched all the Tsuburaya series, Ultraman, Ultraseven, Ultra Q. So I grew up like a Japanese kid.”
Yeon shared similar influences, explaining: “Actually, I think it’s right to say that I get inspiration from everything in life. But when I was young, at that time in Korea, Japanese animation was on TV, and I’m not a good sportsman.”
The conversation turned to their approaches to adapting existing material. On his adaptation of Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein,” playing at Busan, del Toro detailed his decades-long relationship with the source material: “I saw the movie when I was seven, I read the book when I was 11, and since that time until now, I have made it a point to study… the lives of the Romantics. Percy B. Shelley, Mary Shelley, Lord Byron.”
His philosophy on adaptation is deeply personal: “You study all of that through decades and decades and decades and it becomes part of you. And then what you do is like you sing the same song with your own voice with different arrangements and it feels new because it matters to you.”
Yeon, who is adapting the Japanese manga “The Human Vapor,” expressed surprise at del Toro’s deep knowledge of obscure Japanese works, including the 1960 film “The Human Vapor,” demonstrating the cross-cultural pollination of genre filmmaking.
Praising Yeon’s transition from animation to live-action, del Toro called it “very rare that an animation director transitions so beautifully to live action.” He emphasized animation as “a pure form of art,” particularly stop-motion, which he continues to pursue alongside his live-action work.
Yeon reflected on the different strengths of each medium: “Animation and live-action have somewhat different appeals. In animation, almost all drawing styles exist. You can convey something just through the shape of appearance, which is a really big appeal, and depending on how you make it move, the way emotions are expressed changes a lot, so it has a broader range for conveying emotions. Live-action films definitely have authenticity that comes from the talents that actors possess, so there’s definitely a different kind of delivery power from that.”
He continued: “Since I’m doing a lot of live-action film series now, I have a desire in one corner of my heart to someday make some legendary animation like Osamu Tezuka or works like those I loved so much when I was young. When I work on projects with creatures, there’s somewhat the joy I had when doing animation.”
Both directors shared stories about embracing unexpected moments during production. Recalling the “Train to Busan” production, Yeon shared a specific example: “Originally, since I did animation, I try not to draw as much as possible. But when some explanation is needed, I do draw. The most representative case was when filming ‘Train to Busan’ – there was a scene where zombies were being dragged away in the ending, but that scene didn’t exist originally. We said we should add such a scene, but the staff couldn’t accurately understand what kind of scene it was, so I spent about a day drawing that scene. Amazingly, it’s almost identical to the image that appears in the movie now.”
He also shared another production story: “We had a past scene, so we worked quite hard to do the set dressing. We came after setting it up, but the night before, there was an incredibly heavy rain. It rained and all the mud was washed away, and the floor we had set up became completely muddy. At first, we thought we were unlucky and tried to clean it up, but as we tried to clean it, the look itself matched so well with the past. When such accidents happen, the accident isn’t really an accident but makes the film really special.”
Expanding on this philosophy, del Toro said: “As you age, you learn to, when you’re a young director, you talk a lot. When you are older, you listen a lot. And you know who’s talking all the time? The movie… And if you learn to listen, you make a better movie by realizing that accident is telling you this is what the movie wants to be.”
When asked about maintaining human elements within spectacular set pieces, del Toro emphasized that “everything is drama” regardless of scale. He described filmmaking as “poetry with hardware,” explaining how technical elements like camera movement and editing create emotional impact.
“Film is poetry with hardware,” he said. “You have a dolly track, you have a lens, you have a camera… you’re using hard things to produce symphonic movement.”
Both directors stressed the collaborative nature of their work. Noting that all visual elements work together, del Toro said: “Wardrobe is set design. Set design is cinematography. Cinematography is wardrobe. There’s no difference. You’re creating a single image.”
He shared advice from makeup effects master Dick Smith, quoting Laurence Olivier: “When you’re an actor in a rain scene, let the rain do some of the acting for you.” This philosophy extends to every element of production, where “everything is acting.”
The conversation touched on handling negative criticism. Yeon offered his perspective: “Actually… I feel what kind of thoughts critics have about certain works. I feel it, and sometimes there might be a gap between that person and me. When there’s a gap, I try to respect and understand it enough, but it doesn’t have a big influence on my work.”
Meanwhile, del Toro revealed he no longer reads reviews, positive or negative: “If you believe the good ones, you have to believe the bad ones. And I don’t want to.”
He emphasized depth of connection over breadth of audience, sharing how Terry Gilliam’s “Brazil” transformed him despite playing to an empty theater: “It doesn’t matter how many people liked it or not. It changed my life.”
Addressing the current industry landscape, Yeon drew historical parallels: “I think this way. Since I did animation, those who really like animation will know, but there used to be something called videodeck. When videodeck first started to emerge, a genre called OVA (Original Video Animation) began to appear in Japan.” He noted that while streaming offers global simultaneous release, theatrical films have different timing across countries and provide different depths and delivery methods, making them “completely different” experiences.
Focusing on the “size of ideas” rather than screen size, del Toro noted that content must work effectively in both home and theater environments.
The session concluded with advice for first-time directors. Offering a marriage metaphor, del Toro said: “Making a movie is not a date, it’s a marriage. So don’t marry that easy. Marry people you really give a fuck about.”
